


Summer Evening

by Megxolotl



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 00:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megxolotl/pseuds/Megxolotl
Summary: I needed some fluffy stuff, for tomorrow is the day I die for sure.Lowkey dedicated to the wondersome StarFallGalaxy, who did the internet equivalent of lovingly dragging me to a desk and poking gently





	Summer Evening

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some fluffy stuff, for tomorrow is the day I die for sure.
> 
> Lowkey dedicated to the wondersome StarFallGalaxy, who did the internet equivalent of lovingly dragging me to a desk and poking gently

__

“I’m gonna liquefy your organs!” 

“I-I’d like to see _that_!” 

Neither of the boys made a move, still gathering their breath. Who knew GIR and MiniMoose could be so vicious when it came to play fighting? Meh, that’s what band-aids are for.

Dib rolled on his back, enjoying the cold floor of Zim’s base. He knew that place almost better than his own home, by now.

“So...” Zim didn’t continue the statement, sprawled face down like a starfish. He worked in a specific temperature range, and the infernal weather was surpassing said range by several degrees.

“Yeah...” Dib shared the sentiment. Getting up (and experiencing how scotch tape felt when being pulled), he made his way to the alien’s kitchen, refilling the filtering jug at the sink.

The jug had been some sort of cruel gag gift, to commemorate Zim’s 100th plan gone wrong; the physical embodiment of the phrase “you better get comfortable, because you are not leaving soon”.

Still sprawled on the floor, weakly clawing at GIR’s belly (__how could an android be so ticklish?__), it didn’t seem that Zim had any intention to.

* * *

The hill behind the city was one of Dib’s favorite places in the world. Agent Tunaghost had showed him the panoramic spot at the top after a wild mothman chase in the woods. The mothman in question turned out to be a rather owlish looking researcher, but the sight had been more than enough consolation; the lights of the city, almost a mirror image of the starry sky above, had become for him one of the many little things that made his planet worth protecting.

During the afternoon, however, the sight was quite different.

“It looks like it’s burning.”

“Thought you would like it, Spaceboy.”

* * *

“Hey Gaz, have you seen Zim?”

With the unbearable heat brought by the sun, during summer people tended to become a rather nocturnal species. That meant that what should have been a mildly peaceful night spent gaming had been turned by GIR’s boundless love of all things human into a neighborhood party. A neighborhood party her father _convinced_ them to attend. Or rather, he convinced Gaz to play _chaperone_ and make sure “Dib and his foreign friend don’t accidentally kill each other”.

The man was unfairly oblivious to anything concerning Dib’s interests, but even he picked up on the blatant displays of animosity that went down between Dib and his alien “rival”, for lack of a better word.

“Follow the shouts.” The _moron_went unsaid, but strongly implied. They may have learned to steer clear of each other’s toes - Dib didn’t attempt to use her as guinea pig for his paranormal junk or interrupt her campaigns as often and she, in exchange, tuned down the retaliations - but she still kept an healthy dose of sibling loathing.

Dib acquiesced with a nod, placing a plate of xtra-cheesy pizza cubes near her, before disappearing in the crowd like a bat following its sonar. The shouts led him to a small “clearing” formed by people trying to avoid the moving disaster that was Zim and Gir dancing to the music.

Or rather, _GIR_ was dancing to the music, keeping an iron grip on his master’s hands and enjoying himself. Zim was executing his own dance in trying to avoid his minion’s very left - and equally heavy - squeaking feet.

After a small eternity the song reached its end, and Zim wriggled free of his “dance” (a mad twirling that had left him with a bad headache) partner’s hold, bumping into a strategically placed Dib, who was grinning smugly.

“C’mon Spaceboy, let’s get out of here.”

“For once,”growled Zim, dragging a beaming GIR who had latched on his leg, “you had a good idea.” 

* * *

_“And exactly like a moth that does never look upright, in the nights of full moon I looked at my neon blue light”_

Dib drummed his fingers on the Voot’s control console to the beat of the song, “Derb’s” lumpy space suit doing little to restrain his movements.

Zim felt a strong impulse to deactivate his audial receptors and dull the musical torment he was being subjected to, more or less like he did after a month straight of the Doom Song (he had pretty much developed a selective deafness to his servant’s rambling ever since).

_“and even if I fell, I was so happy I could die”_

Zim tried to distract himself from the morbid line by checking the ship’s parameters, almost disappointed that the chunk of trash he called “ship” was - for the first time since Zim obtained it - in perfect working condition.

_“Or to be dying, I don’t know.”_

Ok, time out. Seizing the fact that they were forced to share the pilot’s seat, Zim kicked Dib in the shin, with the predicted results.

“**YEOWCH**! The hell, Zim?” The shout reverberated against the Voot’s inner walls and back to the two.

“Do you want for Zim to end your pitiful life and my superior one by turning the landing in a big splat against your planet’s stupid moon? Shut up and let me concentrate!”

The Moon’s surface was, in fact, getting closer and closer by the second, every crater and groove now visible even to Dib’s bespectacled eyes.

After a few more seconds of baited breath (Credit where credit was due, occasionally Zim came up with rather effective threats) the Voot touched the satellite’s surface. Dib was out before the ship stopped rocking, the spacesuit’s feet hitting the dusty surface of the moon without a sound.

He took a tentative step, giggling when it turned into a small leap. Right, the gravity here was only one sixth of Earth’s. Dib let himself fall to his back, flopping a bit to make angels in the dust, stopping only when he felt Zim’s foot nudge him.

“Make space, Zim wants to sit here.”

Biting back a “we are in space right now, you _prick_”, Dib sat up and scooted over. The best was to come in a couple of minutes anyway, and Zim was none the wiser. He just had to play coy for a bit.

Hearing a small gasp over the suit’s intercom, Dib turned his head a bit to look at Zim watcing the "Earthrise with a startsruck expression, before turning to watch the spectacle himself."

Here, so far away from all the stupid people and the noise, the white clouds swirling over masses of blue and green.. “it looks nice.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does.”

_What difference does it make anyhow?_

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism? Questions? Just want to say hi? The comments are at your service! (and you can find me at megxolotl on tumblr, if you prefer)
> 
> The fic itself is inspired by the song "La banalità del mare" and Dib is singing the (translated by me) chorus of the song "Sciare", which is actually about the importance of being stubborn little turds and don't give anything about people's "informed concerns". Both are fom the indie band "Pinguini Tattici Nucleari"


End file.
